Jaimee Garbacik
Pennydrop

Awaiting your return, the primary sensation
is yearning.
I can almost taste the reservoir
rolling cool pearls on my tongue
Every muscle, emotion stretched taut;
craning arch of neck;
my sight darts, seeking its once obvious counterpoint.
Candlewax drips from the ceiling of my once fluid mouth.
        Because
the calm and light have become as elusive
        as a personality.
Quivering
I hear the crunch of our bruised symmetry
sentimentality
Your departure left a vacuum
that must have proceeded to devour my lungs
for I can no longer breathe
without strain
The splintered aura
clattered as it dropped
But it's taking my eyes
         forever
to register the event.

<< Back to Issue 8, 2005